


The Third Wheel

by Recipe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-04-26 18:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14407488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recipe/pseuds/Recipe
Summary: In which Rose tries to be more spontaneous, and Scorpius tries to figure out who her non-existent ex-boyfriend is (because only a break-up could spur such a desire to switch up one's lifestyle).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New to AO3, bear with me here as I slowly begin to import works! Feedback appreciated per usual. Chat with me about your thoughts!

"Hope," he announced, "should have stayed in Pablo's Box."

Over the course of the past several years, Rose had long since learned that Scorpius tended towards _prolific thespian_ after inhaling one Firewhiskey too many, taking heart in discussing life philosophies that contrasted with the gritty bar scene behind him. In fact, the more he drank, the more sophisticated his speech tended to be – which, in the past, had gone so far as to even win him an American girlfriend who thought him to be the perfect, articulate English gentleman.

"Pablo's Box?" Rose echoed behind her Butterbeer. Because, loathe as she was to admit it – she was a bit of a lightweight and couldn't keep up drink for drink with Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter. And because unlike Firewhiskey, Butterbeer actually tasted good, damn it.

He made a rectangle shape with his hand before him, tracing the edges vaguely as he tried to recount. "You've read the story – the one where that mortal man slept with a god and pissed off all the other gods, and on their wedding day he was gifted a box of monsters?"

Rose squinted her eyes, trying to place the story while Al shrugged, completely lost. "You mean Pandora's Box?"

"That's the bloody wench," Scorpius declared triumphantly, slinging one arm around Rose and the other arm raising his drink higher in cheers. Rose laughed and waved the bartender for a second round – she needed a bit more if she was going to deal with philosophical Scorpius, and he clearly wasn't drunk enough if he was still dropping swears.

"She didn't sleep with a god," Rose corrected. "She was made by them – "

"Regardless," Scorpius continued and Rose huffed a little while Al repressed a smile, "she released hope into the world, the deadliest vice that haunts all of our footsteps today."

Drinks came, interrupting Scorpius' monologue as they each reached for their next glass, and Al seized his chance to talk. "Okay, I'm lost. Who's Pandora?"

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Rose opened her mouth to respond but Scorpius – who had miraculously managed to down half his Firewhiskey in that time – cut her off. "A woman who inflicted the agony of _hope_ into humankind!" he answered in a pained voice.

"Okay." Al pushed his glasses up some and folded his hands before him, ready for business. "Are we talking about Pandora or Renee?"

Scorpius started at the name, his face constricting for a brief second – and was it her imagination, or did her chest constrict with him? "Don't talk to me of Renee. Renee, the woman with all sharp smiles – " he bemoaned.

"Wait," Rose said. "Who's Renee?"

" – and electric curves – "

Annoyed now, especially at being ignored, she turned to her cousin. "Al, who's Renee?" Rose asked across the table.

" – and a biting voice – "

"A tease," Al answered. "Who's Pandora?"

" – to be able to paint little x's across her taunting eyes – "

"A mythological character," Rose replied, not any bit pleased with his response.

" – blind her as she did me – "

"Your answer doesn't help place this conversation at all," Al accuses.

"Neither does yours," Rose shot back, rolling her eyes before jabbing Scorpius in the side. "Merlin, Scorpius, shut up!" Caught off guard, Scorpius fell silent. "For shit's sake, next time you feel like Shakespeare, keep it to parchment, will you? Don't make us suffer through it."

His eyes widened slightly, but Rose was too irritated with him to feel bad that she might have offended him. Good humor gone, she was in no mood to handle his dramatics tonight.

"Wow, Rose, what was in your drink that turned you into a bitch?" Al snorted, and Rose scowled. "But seriously, Scorpius – slow down, we can't keep up with you here. Who is Pandora?"

"Who is Renee?" Rose muttered. They were supposed to be best friends – and how fucking dare they leave her out of the loop like this.

"More importantly," Al said loudly, overriding Rose's comment, "what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about _life_ ," Scorpius shared, exasperated. "About life and the expectations it gives you and how it steals it away, leaving you more broken than you were to begin with even though nothing had ever changed."

Al blanched. "If that's how you're describing hope, mate, blimey did she do a number on you."

"That's it." Rose stood and reached into her pocket and pulled out whatever few Knuts were lying loose, tossing it onto the table. It wasn't enough to cover her Butterbeers, but fuck if she cared, and they both owed her a fortune anyways. "Invite me back when you two are done with your private girl talk."

She spun on her heel and left, wishing slightly that she could at that moment march up to some stranger and mash her lips against his. Just to show them – fuck them, keeping their little secrets about each other's love lives right in front of her face. She could have her secrets too.

But she didn't, because her life isn't a best-selling romance novel and this was not the kind of bar with enough of a club scene where she could pretend to bump into someone. And because she really didn't have any secrets – because she really was just an open book, and they knew everything about her and apparently she can't say the same for them.

And she was done with Renee. She was done being the one who wasn't invited when one of them managed to snag an extra Quidditch ticket, because even if Al or Scorpius were better than her at flying didn't mean that she didn't enjoy the sport. She was done with being informed after-the-fact about weekend hiking excursions. With being the third wheel in their trio of friendship.

Then she ran into the door.

She sniffed at the booming laughter that followed and pulled rather than pushed the door open, because really – fuck her friends.

…

Al and Scorpius had, wisely, left her alone the day following her anticlimactic exit from the bar – but apparently Scorpius, at least, lacked the wisdom to leave her alone for another one.

"Hey," Scorpius called when he entered her apartment, and though it didn't use to bother her, she hated it so very much right now that he was at liberty to enter and leave her apartment without notice or knocking. "You up for pizza for lunch?"

Rose looked at the note she had spent all of yesterday writing that was pinned the side of the wall that Scorpius couldn't see. At the top of her to-do list she had written, "Get trim – no take-out." And right above that line said, "Go out – but not with _them_."

"Not interested," Rose replied shortly, flicking her wand as her now empty teacup flew to the sink.

"Oh," Scorpius said, taken aback by her tone as she brushed past him. "Are you going somewhere?"

"To the gym," Rose answered, grabbing a small black bag that she had packed ten minutes earlier. On her to-do list, it was at spot number three: "Get fit – hit the gym."

"Oh," Scorpius said again. "You don't usually go to the gym at this time."

She usually spent this time reading a novel, enjoying the last of her weekend doing nothing. Sometimes Scorpius would pop in, and they'd spend their Sunday doing nothing together, maybe over a game of Exploding Snap. "I rearranged some things in my schedule."

This time, she made sure not to walk into the door.

"I'll see you later. Maybe."

…

He was still there when she came back, feeling sticky and pathetic and desperately out of shape. He, on the other hand, was calm, collected, and disgustingly in shape as he sat on her couch eating pizza that he ordered for himself. And he was definitely not what she wanted to see at the moment, especially when she smelled like, in her opinion, rabbit piss.

"What's this?" he asked, and she noticed that in the hand that wasn't clutching a greasy slice of pizza was clutching a now-greasy piece of paper that was once her to-do list.

She glared at him. "Are you going through my stuff?"

"When have you ever had anything to hide?" he said defensively.

Rose let out a bark of almost-maniac laughter, because of course she always had nothing to hide, but it was okay if he kept a secret or two or three from her because it's just Rose, isn't it? "You don't know my life," she lied, even though he did and that's what she hated.

And for some reason, even though he's known her since they were eleven and he beats her at poker every time because apparently she has a tell – he believes her. And she has no fucking clue why, as he opens and closes his mouth again.

Finally he says accusingly, "This looks like a break-up to-do list."

Her eyebrows relent in surprise before she remembers to furrow them again – because please, it's _her_ , and when was the last time she went on a date, let alone had a real boyfriend to break up with? But in a way – it really was a post-break-up to-do list, wasn't it? She was just trying to break up with her friends rather than a boyfriend.

"You didn't say you were dating anybody," he continued when she didn't answer him, and she felt giddy that he sounded almost as offended about her supposed ex as she did about Renee. Except, of course, that Renee was a real person, unlike her ex, who was an imaginary construct.

"You're not my keeper," Rose scoffed as she tapped her wand into her water bottle, refilling it.

"No, but I'm your best mate."

_Was_ , Rose thought sullenly.

"Look – I'm going to go take a shower, and you can take your pizza and go bother Al instead or something, all right?" Rose said shortly, and without bothering to see his reaction stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door closed.

When she left the bathroom a half hour later, she was relieved to see him gone – gone with the pizza he had ordered, and the to-do list she had written the day before.

…

"No offence, Rosie," Lily said as she waved her wand, "but that sounds really stupid and childish." She held her hands up in the air for Rose to see. "What do you think about this color?"

Rose, who had been lying on Lily's couch, rolled over and squinted at her cousin's nails. "I liked the pink better."

Lily sighed as she waved her wand again, and the blue nail polish changed color to a coral pink. "Really? But I really liked the blue."

"Pink goes better with your robes," Rose said.

"I guess," Lily shrugged. "But back to the gossip – you've been friends with Al for about twenty-five years and Scorpius for fifteen. Doesn't this seem a little, you know, like third year drama?"

"You're the worst sympathizer," Rose grumbled as she rolled back over, throwing a pillow over her face.

"I mean I understand you, of course – I always wondered how you managed to not go crazy with two guys for best friends – but you realize that the entire family's now going to pester you about your hypothetical boyfriend? I mean, I'm not going to tell, of course – but you know how the family is."

Rose groaned. "Merlin do I hate Scorpius right now."

"Don't blame Scorpius, blame Al," Lily said nonchalantly. "Scorpius just asked Al if you had a boyfriend. Al's the one that's been questioning the rest of us incessantly. And it's going to sound really stupid when Uncle Ron demands to know about your ex and you tell him that you're only breaking up with Al and Scorpius."

"It already sounds stupid," Rose admitted into the pillow.

"Hey," Lily said, "get out of that pillow. Tell me what you think about this purple."

Looking over, Rose said, "It's fine. Better than the blue, anyways." She was quiet for a moment before finally bursting out, "I'm just tired of being the afterthought in this friendship, you know? It's been this way since forever, and I'm sick of it, and I just want to shake things up a bit. Meet new people, do new things."

"Scorpius is right, you do sound like a post-break-up story," Lily observed as she began detailing little designs on her nails. "But actually, go out and meet new people. But that doesn't mean you have to cut off your old fifteen-year-long friendships."

"Lils, I just want a break from them," Rose sighed.

"I know, Rosie," Lily said as sympathetically as Lily could ever sound. "But you should just tell them that, before the rumor mill hits up Uncle Ron."

…

The thing is, Lily never had a problem being blunt. It was both her fault and her virtue, and it made her either loved or hated. Rose, while known for sometimes lacking a filter between her mind and her mouth, wasn't quite as capable as being upfront. Confrontational, Rose believed, was a learned trait and one she hadn't yet fully acquired. In fact, her rage quit at the bar was perhaps the most confrontational thing she had ever done. No, it was definitely the most confrontational thing she had ever done, and she had no idea how to handle it. She didn't usually do the whole confrontational thing.

It was actually how she had befriended Scorpius, back in their first year. By being absolutely not confrontational.

"So," he had said, walking over after having checked the assignments sheet, "I guess we're potions partners? I'm Scorpius Malfoy."

He had said this challengingly, as if he dared her to make a comment on how silly his first name sounded or how terrible his surname was. She, for her part, had recognized him as the boy she was supposed to beat on every exam – at least, according to her father. And even though she was certain she wouldn't like him one bit – from his argumentative attitude to her father's advice – she had smiled anyways in response.

"I'm Rose Weasley, but I guess you already knew that."

He then grinned at _her_ receptive attitude (which he would one day later refer to as her "doormat attitude," which she had preferred calling "friendliness"), and with his smile she thought that maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Then the day before the first Potions exam, he had turned to her and asked if she wanted to study together. Al, sitting on her other side, had overheard.

"I'll come, too! Rosie always has the best notes," Al said, inviting himself as he was apt to – and Rose shrugged and smiled a little at the flattery, and Scorpius said, "Great!"

And so the dynamic was born – two leaders and their tagalong friend who was not confrontational and never seized anything for herself. And that was, Rose thought, the fundamental problem.

And maybe they preferred to hang out with each other because maybe they thought she was boring. That she wouldn't be interested in things like hiking or talking about girls like Renee. And maybe she was a little predictable, but predictability wasn't a bad thing. It was a responsible thing.

_Merlin_. Rose groaned and hid her face in her hands. She sounded boring to even herself.

She pulled out a new sheet of parchment and scribbled **TO-DO** at the very top. When she finished it and pinned it back onto her wall, she made sure to charm it so that the likes of Scorpius Malfoy couldn't read what it said this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Mondays was lunch with Al, and after work, Mondays was apartment cleaning day. Tuesday was Rose's day – which usually meant reading a book in the bathtub, but occasionally she'd be inspired enough to pull out her old paints and dust off an unused canvas – and she had lunch with Scorpius. Weasley Wednesday was lunch with Lily and dinner at the Burrow, and Thursdays, she had lunch with both Al and Scorpius.

Rose had stared long and hard at her calendar, counting the number of times the name  _Al_  or  _Scorpius_  appeared. The math was simple – if she wanted to meet new people, she'd have to rearrange a few things to make time. Namely, erase a few names. Two names in particular.

_Shake up your routine_ , Witch's magazine had said, and Rose winced at how much of her life was simply that – routine. It was time to upset her schedule. 

Lily said that she should just tell Al and Scorpius that she needed a break, but that was a Lily tactic. Lily had always been very apt to say as she did, and no amount of logic or arguing could persuade her otherwise. But Rose knew herself, and Rose knew Al and Scorpius. What was she going to say? The boys would never understand her. They'd argue with her until she admitted that the whole thing was stupid, and then she'd let her emotions get trampled on again. Not to mention she just had no idea how to breach the topic in the first place, and – Merlin, did it stress her out just thinking about it.

She just needed to take charge of her own life and enact on what she needed right now. For once in her life, she wasn't going to worry about Al or Scorpius.

Rose scribbled down a memo to Scorpius and a separate one to Al, cancelling all lunch plans for the following week. “Busy week at work, no time to chat,” she wrote as an excuse. Scorpius might buy the excuse –  _might_  – as he didn’t work for the Ministry, but Al would know that her department was actually rather slow this week and if she keeled over and died at the present moment, her manager wouldn’t notice for another month at least. 

But she faltered, her wand just hovering over the memos. Truth be told, maybe she really was just avoiding them. Maybe Lily was right, and she should just summon whatever Gryffindor courage was leftover from her overly Gryffindor family and confront them.

"Get a grip, Rose," she muttered to herself, and flicked her wand. The memos folded themselves into paper airplanes and zipped off. She could hardly articulate exactly what she wanted to herself, let alone to someone else. She just needed more time to herself to process her feelings, and that was all, Rose decided.

Rose stared at her now cleared desk, adamantly ignoring the churning in the cavity of her chest.  _Do something_ , she thought to herself. 

Her eyes settled on her copy of Witch's magazine.  _Get to know the people around you better – join them for lunch or afternoon tea._ Tea, she could do. She needed to visit Felix for work anyways, and there wasn't any reason she couldn't brew a larger pot of tea this time.

Rose took a deep breath. This would work. This could be fun.

...

“Knock-knock,” Rose said, one hand on the door and the other hand hovering two mugs of tea in front of her.

Felix looked up from his desk and smiled. “Hey, Rose.” He nodded at the extra mug. “That for me?”

“Maybe,” Rose said. “I was hoping to trade – tea for those files on the  _Expelliarmus_?”

“Done!” Felix immediately declared, slapping a fist down on his table. Waving his wand, he summoned the file and handed it to her. “You just made a terrible trade. These notes have nothing.”

Rose shrugged as she carefully leaned down, trying not to spill the tea as she set it on his desk. “I’d like to look at them anyways.” As she turned to grabthe file, her eyes caught on the clock in the room and she hesitated.

“Hey,” she started, “are you doing anything for lunch?”

“Mmm,” Felix said, putting his tea down. “This was brewed perfectly, Rose, thanks. And actually, Marissa and I were thinking about trying out that new food stall that opened up last month. Care to join us for a bite?”

She grinned widely in response. “I’d love to, let me just glance over this file really quick and I’ll come meet you here.”

“Sounds good,” Felix said, raising his mug to her. “See you soon.”

_Do new things, meet new people_. Maybe she wasn’t meeting someone new, but getting lunch with Felix and Marissa would at least be different and, in her opinion, a good first step. So, with her tea and her file and her grin, she headed back to her own office.

…

When she came back, she found Scorpius lounging in  _her_  seat, reading through  _her_ copy of Witch’s magazine. And, judging by the way froze slightly when she opened the door, he certainly noticed her entrance – and just deigned not to acknowledge her. At least, not until she cleared her throat loudly, to which he looked up in mock surprise.

“Yes?” he asked, as if it were  _his_  office and  _she_  was the one who had just barged in.

“Why are you in my chair?” Rose demanded.

He arched an eyebrow and lifted the magazine higher. “Why do you have Witch’s magazine?”

He knew that she wasn’t much of a magazine subscriber – especially not of the Witch’s variety. She had simply bought this particular issue when standing in line for checkout at the bookstore, tempted by the headlined title of  **50 WAYS TO MOVE ON FROM YOUR EX**. Judging by the page Scorpius had the magazine opened to, he had noticed the headline, too.

The real reason as to why she purchased it was because she thought the magazine might have a few pointers on hobbies she could distract herself with as she tried to reinvent herself. But it wasn’t a reason that Scorpius had to know.

“I’m a witch, aren’t I?” Rose retorted. “I’m allowed to read Witch’s magazine.”

“But you don’t,” Scorpius insisted. And there was something hard in his voice, and Rose wasn’t quite sure how to read it. He never used this tone with her before.

“Well, apparently I do,” Rose replied. “And what are you doing in the Ministry anyways? You don’t work here.” Occasionally he’d pop in to pick her up for lunch, if he had wrapped up his work early. But they had lunch on Tuesdays, and today wasn’t Tuesday at all.

Not to mention, she had sent him that notice earlier today cancelling lunch plans. Though, to be fair, it hadn’t been too long ago since she sent that memo out, and she wondered if he had received it yet.

He spun his feet off of her side file cabinet and grabbed a piece of parchment out of his front robe pocket. "So, I got a letter from you today. Al said he got the same thing."

_Of course_  he and Al would already have talked about that. Rose wondered if they had some kind of secret communicator – she heard Uncle Harry once mention something about a two-way mirror – that they had just conveniently left her out of. Frustration and hurt flared in her chest again, and the space around her heart felt a little too hollow.

"What's it matter? Al cancels on me too, whenever he's got a new witch he's taken a fancy to," she retorted, trying to fill the hollow gap with words. "And what are you doing here? We don't even have lunch on Mondays."

"Your notice, Rose, said  _all week_ , so that would affect me, since we have lunch on Tuesdays. We  _always_  have lunch on Tuesdays, Rose. I've never canceled," Scorpius said. And it was true – he never let her cancel Tuesday lunches, even when she was busy at work or sick. He'd just grab Chinese takeout and bring it to her, wherever she was. And she did the same for him – only she always brought with her two orders of butter chicken. "And Al said he's staying out of whatever this is, but you've been complaining about not being given any real projects at work, which makes this pretty little note about a busy week" - he took the note, folded it in half, and ripped it - "a damn lie."

He wasn't calling her Rosie anymore. Just Rose. And Rose thought that maybe what she heard in his voice earlier was hurt – hurt that  _she_  had made happen. And while on some part of her – some nasty part of her that she's ashamed about – felt gratified in that his chest was hollowing out just as hers was, she felt mostly guilty.

Rose wondered absently if this was the most she'd ever affected him. She'd put up with years of stuffing down her hurt whenever Al and Scorpius told stories of escapades she hadn't been informed of, or listening to them talk about their plans without inviting her. And not being privy to things like  _Renee._

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, Felix popped in. "Hey, Rose," he said. "Marissa said her meeting ended early, so I'm headed upstairs to meet her now. You still good for lunch?"

Rose blinked. "Yeah, yeah, I'll just set these down." She walked over to the filing cabinet and placed it where Scorpius' feet had been moments before, not making eye contact with her best friend. "I'll talk to you later, Scorp."

She could still feel his gaze when she closed the door behind her.

…

"Because I'm  _trying_ , Lils, but the thing is – the thing is, I couldn't even fully enjoy lunch because every few sentences, I'd just go back to thinking how pathetic Scorpius looked sitting at my desk and just wondering how he was doing and feeling kind of guilty – though, Marissa had a really good story about last week when she tried to use a jinxed toilet, I definitely need to hang out with her more - "

"First of all, if you're going to rant about something, don't change the subject," Lily interrupted, poking at her pasta with a fork. It was Weasley Wednesday, and Rose had suggested trying out an Italian place rather than their usual sandwich shop. It was a decision Rose was already regretting, since the restaurant chef seemed to take too strong a fancy to olive oil. "Second of all, and more importantly.... still? We're  _still_  on this? You haven't just told them?"

Rose faltered. "No," she said quietly, pausing before continuing. "But I haven't had the chance to, yet. You know how Al is. And Scorp has been avoiding me the past two days."

"Fucking hell," Lily muttered impatiently under her breath. "Of course he is, one of his best mates is suddenly pissy at him without reason, and he tries to talk to her but gets rejected both times. You dug yourself into this one, Rosie."

"I know," Rose sighed, tearing pieces of bread absent-mindedly, distracted by the wrenching of her gut.

Lily rolled her eyes. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," Rose said honestly. At Lily's arched eyebrows, Rose persisted, "Al's, well, Al. Al won't bother me until I approach him. He's good about giving people space like that. But Scorp, if I tell Scorp that I feel like I'm suffocating in this friendship – he wouldn't understand. He'd tell me that we can work it out, I'd write his name back into my schedule, and suddenly my life is just Scorpius and Al again and nothing will have changed. And getting to reconnect with people I haven't had a serious conversation with in a while – I'm excited for this, Lils, and I'm not about to give that up."

"Yeah, well," Lily said dryly. "I'm happy for you, Rose, really. You're right, we can't have everything, and if this is what you want... well, then. But your feelings are not the only one involved here, you know?" She sighed, pushing her plate away from her. "Anyways. I'm done with this food and I'm done with this conversation."

Rose blushed. "Sorry, it's just been taking up my mind a lot recently. Also sorry about the food choice, I thought a change might be nice." Rose shook her head, trying to lighten up her thoughts. "Let's talk about you. What's going on with you and Emmet?"

Lily wrinkled her nose and sniffed. "Of all conversation topics we move to," she sighed. "Nothing's going on with me and Emmet. Or, rather, nothing out of the ordinary."

"I thought you were thinking about cutting it off," Rose said conversationally.

"Yeah, I have been. Still am, in fact," Lily agreed. "And there's nothing wrong between us. I like him, sure. I like being around him. I like fucking him."

Rose choked on her water. "Merlin, Lily," she gasped when she had breath. "I'm your cousin!"

"Well, it's true," Lily said unapologetically. "And I care for him, obviously. And sometimes I think I might really like him. And other times I'm mostly ambivalent." Lily shrugged, and despite what she had said moments prior, she lifted her fork for one last bite of her pasta and chewed with a bit of forced effort. "I just thought, I guess," she said finally, "that relationships had a bit more passion than this. Oh, well." She waved a hand in the air. "Let's get the check."

Rose watched her younger cousin amid the business pleasantries – no, thank you, she didn't need a box, and could they please split the bill? - and thought that the fundamental problem was that one of them experienced too many emotions altogether, and the other not enough.

They were ultimately two girls pretending to be women, both paying for overpriced lasagna, neither quite able to handle their feelings.

…

"So, how long are we going to keep avoiding each other for, during these Burrow dinners?"

It was somehow Weasley Wednesday yet again, and the weeks were blowing by too quickly and dragging along too slowly all at once. Rose was exhausted. She had really pushed herself to step out of her comfort zone this past weekend and last minute went to a concert with Marissa's school friends, and all she wanted to do was go home and finish her book.

"Hi, Al," Rose said, the corners of her lips tugging upward slightly. She looked at the cousin that she had ignored for at least two weeks now, and her heart lurched because she was simultaneously missing him and frustrated that she wasn't happy with her life yet. "I don't know. We don't have to avoid each other, I guess."

"But we're still not hanging out," Al clarified.

"No," Rose agreed. "Not yet."

Al stared at Rose for a few seconds, and Rose could tell he was trying to decide how far he wanted to push. His disposition was naturally and desperately curious, which made Al a bigger gossip than anyone Rose had ever met – but he was always careful about treading around emotions.

"What's been going on, Rose?" he asked finally.

Rose hesitated, running possible answers through her head.  _I'm frustrated that you and_ _Scorp_ _are my best friends, but you two have a bond that I don’t have with either of you, or anyone. I'm frustrated that of my close friends, I have only you and_ _Scorp_ _, and I realize I need more than that._ _I'm frustrated that I'm trying to make friends and I still don't feel a kinship yet in these budding relationships. I'm frustrated that I still feel left out._ _I'm frustrated that my life is so_ _overwhelmingly busy now and yet so_ _stagnant._  "A lot of things," Rose said. "I've been starting to practice yoga a bit. And I'm thinking about joining a book club."

"That's great, Rosie." Silence fell, and it was so unbearably uncomfortable. Being with Al had never felt uncomfortable before. "You'll tell us what's going on, right? Scorp has been going bonkers."

Rose smiled. That had always been a habit of Al's, blaming his concerns on either herself or Scorp. "Yeah, I will."

"And," Al said suddenly, despite himself, "if it's a boy that's the problem, you know you can always talk to us about it, right?"

_Ah, the hypothetical boyfriend_. "I know." She started to turn away but caught a glimpse of Lily's auburn hair flitting around the corner of her vision. What was that she had said a week or two ago?  _Your feelings are not the only one involved here._ And suddenly, Rose felt a twist of guilt wringing her stomach as she looked at Al's face – which, normally expressive, was utterly restrained – and blurted, "Al – there's, next week, er - "

"Yeah?" Al said quickly.

"Remember Audrey from Hogwarts? Well, she's in an improv group now – and she's got a show coming up next week Thursday and a few of us were going to go see it." Her words were rushed too quickly out of her mouth, and Rose realized it too late. Blushing, she continued, "You know. If you, er, wanted to join us."

Al paused, and try as she might, Rose could not read him. And then he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I think I will. Let me know, won't you?"

…

Moments later, Lily came and threw herself onto the couch next to Rose, nearly spilling her Butterbeer. "Oh, Rosie," she said before cackling madly.

"What?" Rose demanded, confused – and, to be honest, more than a little offended by her little cousin patronizing her. ("Do you want me to remind you what happened at karaoke last year?" she thought about saying, just to shut Lily up – but Rose ultimately elected not to, because she was a kinder and more forgiving spirit than the rest of her bull-headed family.)

"Ah, nothing. I'm sure you'll figure it out," Lily said, smirking. "And I'm sure he'll figure it out too."


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch 3**

Rose remembered the first time Scorpius saw her with makeup on. "Are you ok?" he had said, after squinting at her for a bit. "You look really tired. Like a zombie." Her insecurities had stuttered and tugged on her heart before she shrugged it off, but not as flippantly as her pride would have liked. She had just wanted to feel pretty that day and, as a last minute morning decision, spent a few minutes dragging a pencil across her eyelids. She had stopped using eyeliner – or rather, stopped her attempts with eyeliner - after that. 

Something about friends who knew so intimately who you were as a person, Rose thought, just made the feeling of wanting to be different for a day so daunting. With new acquaintances, potential new friends, she could be anybody. She could be the girl who wore make up every day, or the girl who wore make up some days, or the girl who never touched make up except for formal occasions – and it felt so liberating to be able to redefine herself as whimsically as she liked. 

And so it felt slightly odd, sitting next to Al on her left and Matt on her right. It was like her two worlds clashing together, and she didn't know how to staple the boundaries together. 

"Matt, this is Al, my cousin," she had introduced. "Al, this is Matt, a friend of Audrey's. He went to Ilvermorny, actually. Moved from the States a few years ago." 

Al, outgoing and charming as he was, immediately was hitting it off with Rose's new acquaintances, and she couldn't help but feel a little envious about how natural it all was for him. A crude artist in her mind painted a picture of Matt and Audrey deciding that they liked Rose's cousin much more than Rose, hanging out with Al while she herself was – once more – left trying to articulate the feeling of loneliness. 

 _No_. Rose dismissed the canvas from her mind. That wouldn't happen, and it hadn't happened. She was being ridiculous, and perhaps it was this very insecurity that made her no fun to be around, anyways. 

Still, at intermission, Rose turned around at the bar with two glasses of butterbeer and found that Matt had taken her seat to sit closer to Al and the pang hit her again. 

"Looks like Matt's taken a liking to your cousin," Audrey snorted, appearing beside Rose. 

Bewildered, Rose said stupidly, "What?" 

"He's harmless, really, but he's an incredible lightweight and an incorrigible flirt after just a few drinks," Audrey said, rolling her eyes. "You oughtta go in and save Al." 

 _Oh_. 

Dear Merlin, was she really so socially obtuse that she no longer recognized flirting when it was happening right in front of her? Forget making new friends, maybe she ought to tell Al that she's been clearing up her schedule to remember what dating was, because apparently Rose had forgotten the entire concept. 

And now that Rose was removed from her emotional insecurities – really, what was the worst that could happen? Was she so petty that she begrudged others' kindling friendships? Objectively, she realized that people were different, and if some people clicked together better than others – that was okay. One couldn't be friends with everyone they met. 

Perhaps what she was feeling was – was jealousy. Jealous for friendships she didn't yet have but was trying to foster, jealous of other potential friendships that she wasn't a part of. 

It shook her a little, because Rose had never considered herself a particularly jealous person, nor had she ever thought of the idea of jealousy as attractive (though perhaps fourth year Rose and her hidden collection of romance novels might have disagreed – but things that fourth year Rose fancied was something that current Rose was very good at forgetting about). And what did it all mean? Was Rose feeling jealous because she was unhappy, or was she unhappy because of these latent jealousies she hadn't realized she harbored?  

Did it matter, when they were so clearly coupled? 

"I think Al likes the attention," Rose said, recovering slowly. She put on a smile and flashed it at Audrey. "He's always complaining about having to be the first to make a move with women, though I keep telling him it's because any sane woman would rightly stay away from him." 

Audrey giggled. "You two are funny. I'm jealous of how comfortable you are with each other. Some days I think I'm descended from vampires, that's how batty my family is. Anyways, how are you liking the show?" 

"Ooh, it's so clever. I can't believe I've never watched a show before. I loved that bit about witches with toads and STDs - " 

"Well, don't be loving the first set too much! My troupe hasn't even gone on yet!" Audrey teased. "Anyways, that's my cue - " 

As Audrey disappeared behind stage, Rose looked back at Al and Matt, feeling rather silly about the whole matter. It all seemed so obvious now – how Al was shooting her increasingly less subtle frenzied looks that Rose knew translated into  _I'm not sure what's happening here, and I have no idea how to respond._  She giggled at seeing Al so out of his element, wondering if she were better at being oblivious to the world around her or if she were better at ignoring her own feelings until they were altogether a bit too much, before sweeping in. 

"Matt," Rose said as she scooted down the row, "I spent the whole first set carefully warming that seat with my bum just so, could I please have it back?" 

"Of course, my lady," Matt said, scooting back to his seat. "Just keeping it warm for you while you were gone." 

"Thank you, kind sir," Rose said as Al leaned over and whispered a thanks into her ear. Audrey's words replayed in Rose's mind –  _You two are funny._ _I'm jealous of how comfortable you are with each other._  

And as all three of them cheered as Audrey's troupe rushed onstage, Rose thought that perhaps the clash of different friend groups could paint a pretty picture indeed. 

\-- 

As it turned out, Matt was fond of art, too. 

It was something that interested neither Al nor Scorpius, and so she didn't visit the art museum as often as she'd like because solitary excursions left little room for discussions. And, just moments ago, Rose was thrilled to share her interests with a newfound friend – someone who wasn't burdened into attending exhibits and someone who wouldn't just complain the whole way. But now... 

"Whoah," Matt said. 

"Oh, shit," Rose muttered. 

"Now that's more like it," Audrey said approvingly, who – though not particularly interested in art herself – decided to tag along once she failed to convince Matt and Rose to spend the afternoon shopping instead. Audrey bent down and inspected the plate. " _A Vision of Toadstools_ ," sheread. "Merlin, this artist created a sculpture while high. When I'm high, I can't even hold a conversation." 

"Didn't know there was a trick to getting you to shut up," Matt joked. 

"Ha, ha," Audrey said, rolling her eyes. "Is that a wand sticking out of his bum?" 

"I know someone who'd like Al's wand sticking out of his bum," Rose whispered to Audrey, grinning. 

Audrey began to cackle madly, garnering a few disapproving looks from others. "Oh, shut up," Matt said flippantly, though Rose thought she saw a hint of heat at the base of his neck. "I said I was sorry." 

"Well," Audrey said, "like you, this poor fellow isn't swish-and-flicking his way out of anything anytime soon." 

He really wasn't, Rose thought, examining the sculpture. The wizard was in some sort of garden of hell – were those hippogriff beaks coming out of those flowers? - and, as she appreciated the pale stone carved into aristocratic features, she was reminded oddly of Scorpius.  

She wondered what he'd say if he were here with her, looking at this sculpture. "Do you think," he'd say, "that this artist might be trying just a little too hard to be noticed?"  

Rose felt a pang in her gut. She really missed Scorpius, she realized. As Audrey and Matt bickered back and forth as longtime friends do, she realized she quite missed the feeling of hanging out with someone she knew – or, rather, thought she knew – front to back. The feeling of just letting go in conversation, where she didn't have to worry about putting her foot in her mouth or have to constantly assess the situation to see if her sense of humor would go over well. She missed having someone upon whom she could dump her worries and stresses, without being concerned that she might be boring them. 

She supposed that she had Lily still, but Lily was a specific personality that was more about action and sympathy. Al was a great sympathizer, and Rose often thought maybe he learned to be a great sympathizer in order to become a better gossip. Scorpius, though, was perhaps the best at making her feel better. He'd listen and help her chart out the most ridiculous solutions to her problems – helping her create alternate identities in case she wanted to run away, suggesting how to create new sources of stress until her current sources of stress seemed unimportant. 

But in the end, it was always Lily who was right, just as she was in this case. Rose was a grown-ass woman, and it was about time she acted like it. 

\-- 

"You know," Al said, "Scorp has been freaking out." 

"What?" Rose was immediately distracted from Grandma Molly's shepherd pie. Which, really, was quite the feat. Rose  _loved_  shepherd pie and was constantly petitioning Grandma Molly to prepare it for Weasley Wednesday dinners. 

"Well, swallow before you talk," Al said, and Rose hastily gulped down the food she already had in her mouth. "Yeah, he's been freaking out. Like, freaking out, not even low key freaking out. I haven't even seen him this hyped up over dates before, and for those he's asked me to help him pick out which  _shoes_  to wear. Shoes, Rosie! Who cares?" 

"Why?" Rose demanded, before realizing that her voice came out a shade too aggressive. "Oops, I mean, why?" 

Al looked at her, bewildered. "How should I bloody know? They're just shoes! Choose something comfortable and halfway presentable, it's not supposed to be that hard - " 

"Not that," Rose said impatiently. "I mean, why has he been freaking out?" 

"Oh, that," Al said, shrugging. "Well, it seems like you two haven't spoken in the past two months? I think he's just concerned about you, Rose." 

"Right," Rose said, stabbing at her shepherd's pie that now seemed like a silly victory to have won. "That makes sense." 

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose could see that Al was watching her. " _Should_ he be concerned about anything?" 

"No. I mean – I hope not. I mean, I don't think so. Maybe?" Truth be told, she hadn't really thought about it in those terms. What did she want out of meeting up with Scorpius again? She wanted her friend back, certainly. She wanted to start smoothing things over. 

But did she want things to return to the way they were before? Did she want Al and Scorpius to be held accountable for the way they made her feel? 

She certainly didn't want to stop meeting up with the new friends she'd made and the old friends she'd reacquainted with. And with making time for more people in her life, she just wouldn't have enough time to schedule Scorpius and Al back into her life like they used to be. How  _could_  things go back to the way they were? 

"Well, that's reassuring," Al said dryly, when it was clear that Rose was now lost in her own thoughts. "I'll be sure to let him know that, it'll definitely help." 

(Lily would later pop over and sing, "Did my ears hear correctly from the far side of the table? Are you finally taking the advice of sage Li'l Lils and just telling the damn truth? Just do it, Rose. You're never going to get peace of mind until then. And, by the way, it looks like Uncle Ron finally heard about your potential non-existent boyfriend. You took too long, hun." And she would dash away, leaving Rose to fend for herself, sputtering, as her father asked to speak with her upstairs.) 

… 

Work had started picking up. 

Depending on the time of day, Rose would tell you whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Some days, when she was feeling particularly inspired, it was a  _great_  thing. Merlin knew that she was bored witless with the pace her job had been at before, and the inactivity made her restless. Now, with a new start-up company spearheaded by a Muggleborn duo hoping for Ministry approval on magicked Muggle technologies, there was plenty of case work for Rose to do. 

Right now was  _not_  one of those times. 

It was seven, and Rose only knew this because her stomach was grumbling, rather optimistically anticipating a dinner at a reasonable hour. She was on her fourth cup of coffee, the last of which was brewed by a forlorn-looking Felix. 

"Hey." 

A voice startled out of her notes and she looked up, catching sight of Scorpius in the doorway. Her stomach flipped, but it was hard to articulate why. There was the guilt she felt for cutting him out of her life without warning, whereas he was a good enough friend to show up again when she asked. There was the longing she felt missing her best mate, and there was the anticipation of starting a conversation she didn't know how to begin. There were too many emotions – some identifiable, some unfamiliar – churning in her belly, and Rose wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. 

"Hey – Scorpius – hello," Rose stuttered, wincing at how broken her literacy had become. "Thanks for coming – sorry I'm running late, I've been swamped - " 

" - at work, yeah, so your note said," Scorpius said. "I guess this time you were telling the truth." 

Rose winced again, recalling her flimsy excuse for cancelling lunch plans. "Yeah, err..." She wrung her hands. "Let me just pack up." 

The silence was unbearable. He was waiting for her to speak, she knew, but every rehearsed sentence fell apart in the moment as she busied herself by dumping files into her bag. Her emotions were everywhere but her thoughts went nowhere. 

She snuck a glance at him as she fiddled with the latch on her bag a little too long. He was exactly as Rose remembered him to be, and yet not at all. She knew his face well – grey eyes, blond hair, sharp features – but she'd never seen him so stone faced before, and it made him feel as foreign as the art at the museum that she just couldn't understand. 

"Er," Rose said as she reached him, her bag slung over one shoulder. She stared at her feet, and her mind clung to the stray comment that Al had said to her last Wednesday over dinner. "Nice shoes." 

For Merlin's sake, talking to Scorpius was never this hard. Perhaps they were nice shoes, but they were only brown dress shoes and he'd come straight from work. How thick could she get? Two months she went without talking to her best mate and all she could say was  _nice shoes_. 

"Thank you," Scorpius said, and Rose's stomach plummeted even further. No snark, just formalities. She knew from their occasional poker nights that he was impressively capable of hiding his thoughts, but Rose was experiencing so many emotions at once that she just wanted to see something – anything – reflected on his face. 

Rose wrung her hands on the strap of her bag. "I'm ready. Want to go to my place?" she said, and she hated the timid tremor that broke in her voice. 

"If that's what you want." 

And wasn't that the question that got her into this mess in the first place? "Well," Rose muttered with a bitter laugh, "I don't  _know_  what I want." 

Later that night, when she would reflect back to this moment, she would think,  _Wow. How pathetic was I?_  Poor little Rosie, swarmed in unexpected work, unable to make conversation beyond commenting on shoes, running away from her friends but still not sure what she's looking for. Poor little Rosie with her doormat attitude, who struggles to confront her problems and sometimes isn't even sure what the problem exactly is. 

It was so very pathetic – how hard she was trying and the mess she ended up creating. A bit like the artist behind the  _Vision of Toadstools_  sculpture, or whatever it was called. Perhaps she could be his muse for his next disastrous creation. 

It was probably because she was so pathetic that Scorpius finally relented. "Okay, Rose," he said, and wrapped an arm around her. "Let's go home." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around for the third chapter, hope you enjoyed it! Feedback, thoughts, constructive criticism - it's all loved and adored. Cheers!


	4. Chapter 4

Home had never felt so unwelcoming before, Rose thought, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea and her arms wrapped around her legs on the couch. She stared into the brewed liquid, still swirling ever-so-slightly counterclockwise - the way Scorpius always dissolved sugar into her tea after finding out that she preferred it dissolved _clockwise_. “For Merlin’s sake, Rosie,” he had laughed at her, “it’s tea, not a potion. It tastes the same.” She wondered if he still remembered that moment, as it had been a long time since she’d seen Scorpius stir tea anything but counterclockwise at all. It seemed that just as particular as Rose had once been about mixing in milk and tea clockwise, Scorpius had absentmindedly picked up the preference of stirring it in the opposite direction.

"I'm sorry, Scorp," she said at last, pulling her eyes up to meet his, when there were no more awkward pleasantries of _may I make you some tea_ and _you can leave your coat anywhere_ that were left to make.  "I've, err, been a bit of a wanker to you."

 "You have," Scorpius agreed from the opposite side of the couch, lounging much more elegantly with his cup of tea. "But I guess it was about time for you to cash in on all the times you passed on being a wanker in the past decade."

Rose snorted.

 "No, I'm serious! Like that time when Al was pissy at you - and everyone, really - for a week when he didn't make the Quidditch team his first tryout, and you had to talk him down," Scorpius said.

 Rose remembered when Al made Seeker second year and how loudly Scorpius kept saying that Seeker was the position for people who couldn't handle doing anything else while flying, only to find out that Scorpius lost the Seeker position on the Slytherin team to Patricia Parkinson.

 "Or when Al forgot to bring his things to class and had to borrow parchment from your bag and instead spilled ink all over your Herbology essay," Scorpius continued.

 Rose remembered seeing Scorpius staring stupidly into his empty bag as Professor Lyson was scolding, _"Mr._ _Malfoy, did you come to class unprepared? Is my class not important enough to take notes for?_ " She had used her feet to nudge her own bag closer to Scorpius, and in his haste to avoid Professor Lyson's wrath, he had broken her ink bottle.

 A small smile cracked reluctantly from Rose's lips. "I guess Al really did have it coming for him, didn't he?"

 "It's a miracle we still put up with him, really," Scorpius said easily.

 Rose shook her head. Even when he was a victim of her ire, Scorpius was the best at making her feel better. "I'm still sorry, though. I handled things poorly," she insisted.

 Scorpius merely nodded, his lips pursed together slightly. He straightened his posture and leaned forward, and Rose squirmed a bit under his studied gaze. Moments of quiet focus like these reminded Rose of how striking Scorpius could be. It wasn't just his appearance, which were a little more than just pleasant; but rather, it was that look of undivided attention, as if there was only one thing worthwhile in the world right now and he was going to conquer it.

 "Rose," he said finally, "what's wrong?"

 Rose dropped her gaze. With his easy-going nature, Rose rarely caught Scorpius wearing these looks of concentration, and even less so was it directed at her. Yet every time, it felt as though she were on stage at the Royal Opera House facing rows of empty seats but for Scorpius seated at front center, and her heart would drum a little too loudly and blood would rush a little too quickly - almost reminiscent of her nerves before public speaking, but crashing down on her suddenly rather than wafting up in slow waves of dread. "Have you..." She hesitated, rolling the words over slowly in her mind. "Have you ever felt unwanted?"

 Scorpius's eyes narrowed, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

 "I mean," Rose continued slowly, "perhaps it's more like not being wanted, rather than being unwanted. Just... unnecessary."

 "Rose - "

 Her stomach clenched suddenly, and she heard her heartbeat in her ears. "And I know it's such a silly thing to ask you – I mean, you've told me about the prejudices you've faced as a Malfoy," Rose said, her pace quickening. She suddenly realized that she was scared of what Scorpius might say – that maybe he'd laugh because of course he has never felt _unnecessary_ _._ He was charismatic and clever and could light up any conversation. She felt like she didn't want to hear response yet needed to know it, all at the same time. "And what is general ambivalence and compared to outright antipathy? I guess that - "

 "Rose," he said louder, firmer. He reached over and put a hand on her knee, and Rose was startled into quiet, staring at it. She could feel the warmth of his hand through her trousers. "Where is this coming from?"

  _You_ , her mind said. _You, and Al, and the friendship you have that I don't_. But her lips were dry.

 She tore her eyes from Scorpius's hand and stared at the mug in her hands. "I think I need wine instead," she said quietly.

 Scorpius ignored her. "Rose," he continued, and why was he using her name so much? It made the bloody spotlight feel as though it were burning hotter, and the imagery of the rows of empty seats at the opera house flickered in and out of focus as the light blinded her. "You are an amazing witch. You're brilliant, you're patient, you're kind, and you've got a great sense of humor that's somehow both silly and dark. And any bloke who can’t see that,” Scoprius said, swallowing, “is a twat.”

 “Ballsack,” Rose corrected automatically, tiredly.

 “Right,” Scorpius said. One drunken night, Rose had complained about the vulgarity of the boys’ language and the negative connotations associated with female reproductive organs. Determined to take back the words, she had declared that moving forward, the word _twat_ should be a compliment and the word _ballsack_ would take its place to rebalance the world. Unfortunately, it did not catch on as well as Rose had hoped it would. “A ballsack.”

 Rose smiled wryly. It flattered her to hear Scorpius speak highly of her, but guilt churned at the pit of her stomach that she had treated a friend who thought well of her so poorly. And here he was, defending her anyways, against a hypothetical man who might’ve hurt her heart.

 “Rose,” Scorpius said, and his voice sounded tight, as if he were forcing the words out his throat. She looked at him, and his face was pinched. “Did…”

 “Did…” Rose echoed, prompting him when he trailed off.

 He took a breath. “Did _I_ do something?” He fidgeted, rubbing the side of his chin. “To piss you off. It’s just that - well, nevermind.”

 Rose’s heart skipped a beat. She’d been slowly working her way up to telling him the truth, but she hadn’t expected Scorpius to be the one to bring it up! Her hours in front of the mirror, rehearsing what she’d say, and how she was going to say it - none of those hours accounted for him to bring it up. And it frustrated her, because this was just like something Rose _would_ do. She’d have a thought but would be otherwise unable to articulate it until one of her more strong-headed friends raised the point first.

 Even when it came down to her own emotions and taking the time to grow herself, when the subject matter was all about her - she still wasn’t the one to breach the subject. What did that say about her attempts at newfound social independence these past few weeks? She had thought that she was doing well - but maybe she wasn’t doing well enough. Or maybe it was just that with Scorpius…

 “Merlin,” Scorpius breathed at her silence. “I did do something.”

 A mad cackle rose out of Rose’s lungs, one that felt and sounded uncontrollable. “Wine,” she said dumbly, standing up all at once and making her way back to the kitchen. _Focus, Rose,_ she thought. _Focus on something you know._ She zoned in on her unsteady hands, watching them as they put her tea down; and the ceramic mug clinked too loudly on her countertop and droplets spilled over the edges, the brew swishing back and forth, side to side, the counterclockwise path that Scorpius’ hand had woven now forgotten. She summoned a pair of half-open wine bottles and, with a flick of her wrist, the corks flew out of the bottles and hit the wall behind her instead of landing neatly in a pile.

 “Rose - “

 “Just - give me a sec,” Rose interrupted, inhaling deeply to calm herself. She took a swig directly out of the bottle - okay, maybe a few swigs in a single breath - and walked over back onto the couch, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. She offered him the other bottle. “Wine?”

 With more grace than she, Scorpius levitated his mug of tea over to her kitchen counter where it sat quietly next to hers without so much of a sound. Slowly - too slowly - he leaned over and took the bottle from her.

  _Count from ten. You can do this_ , Rose told herself, closing her eyes for a moment. She tried to pretend that she was in front of her bedroom mirror, practicing her lines, but the silence was too loud and her chest was too warm with alcohol. “Scorpius, you and Al are my best friends,” she said finally. “But sometimes, I feel like more of an observer in life, rather than a participant. I mean, I…”

 She drifted off, thinking about how she felt whenever she found out about an escapade Scorpius and Al went through after the fact, a wallflower watching a story unfold of brother-in-arms. It was similar to how she felt watching Matt -

 Rose’s mouth snap shut for a moment, a novel thought flitting its way through her mind. “Scorp, do you - do you have a _thing_ for Al?

 Scorpius blinked, taken aback. “What? A thing?” His eyes widened and he hastily started sputtering, “Oh \- _oh_. Merlin, no. Rose, I don’t - what made you think that?”

 Heat flooded Rose’s cheeks, and this time she couldn’t blame the wine. “Sorry \- that was silly of me, I was just - I just thought - I mean, you two are so close and all - “

 “ - well, you and Al also - “

 “ - but we’re cousins, so - “

 “ - and you and I - “

 “ - and I’m really sorry, it’s so stupid, I shouldn’t have - “

 “ - not that I wouldn’t, I mean - “

 “ - Let’s talk about something else,” Rose said, raising her own bottle to her lips. “But first, I need to drink.”

  _Merlin,_ she was such an idiot for thinking that. Of course she knew that Scorpius wasn’t interested in Al in any way like that. They had always just been brothers, complete with the shoving and fighting. Rose cursed her inane ability to blurt out stupid sentences like this while being unable to finally give voice to her true frustrations.

 “This will be funny in a year,” Rose declared in the awkward silence.

 “Not if we both drink enough to forget it ever happened,” Scorpius retorted darkly, and Rose laughed. “What \- “

 “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she said, dodging eye contact. _Now or never._ She took a deep breath. “But you and Al have always had such a great relationship and I…” She laughed, because it sounded so stupid. “And sometimes I’d feel left out, you know? You were always each other’s dates to events if you didn’t have a real date to take, or when you’d have your dumb _boy’s night out_ but it was really just without me, as if I wouldn’t enjoy going snowboarding or watching Quidditch or helping you lot pick up witches at a bar, and I’d just have my _girl’s night out_ by myself, reading a book and practicing cleaning charms in my apartment.”

 Scorpius watched, stunned - and to Rose, it seemed that once she begun talking, she couldn’t bring herself to stop, even as she realized to her horror that her eyes had become hot with tears.

 “You and Al have always been so bold, the type of people who gets a party off its feet - and then I start thinking, what do I contribute? And if you two are each other’s best mates, then I could only ever be the third wheel - and I don’t _want_ that. And I figure it won’t hurt so much if I had other friends, so I’ve been trying - but I still _want_ to be your best mate, and I want to be Al’s best mate, because I love you both still but sometimes it just _hurts_.”

 Rose broke off, too overwhelmed to process exactly how she felt. Scorpius conjured a handkerchief and brushed away the tears that she didn’t realize had fallen.

 “Rose,” Scorpius said softly. “You know, sometimes I feel left out, too.”

 The air on her cheeks where Scorpius had traced his fingers behind the napkin burned with a different sort of vigor. Her breath hitched in a hiccup as she looked up to him in surprise.

 He grimaced, pulling back. “How do I put this? You and Al - you’re family. In school you went off on holiday together, and still you’ve got your family dinners every week where some new story is invariably born that I only hear secondhand. And even in the past month - I mean, it’s not important - “

 “Tell me,” Rose whispered.

 Scorpius looked at her. His eyes were glossier than usual, and his voice sounded a forced hard. “These past few months, you spoke to Al again and invited him out, but it took you until now to want to be around me. Makes a bloke wonder.”

 Rose’s stomach plummeted. She hadn’t thought about it from that perspective. There wasn't any particular reason, so many Wednesdays ago, that she chose to invite Al instead of Scorpius to Audrey's improv show outside of the fact that Al was just _there_ at the time. And Al was only there because of the Weasley dinner. Was Scorpius saying that he, too, felt some resentment in their friendship triage?

 And Merlin, why couldn’t she stop crying? She was never much of a crier, and the fact that her body chose now to betray her was seriously undermining her attempts at being stronger.

 “I didn’t know,” Rose said. She looked down at her hands before quickly brushing away fresh tears with her sleeve. “I guess - I guess I was thoughtless.” And where did that leave her? She had never thought herself as particularly selfish, and in her group of friends, she always thought herself to be the supportive friend.

 “Me, too,” Scorpius admitted.

 They watched each other in the silence that followed, but this silence wasn’t pounding like the previous ones. Instead, it was almost spiritual. Rose felt naked, but more of the liberating variety than in shame, as if she were being baptized into wisdom and enlightenment. And slowly, the corners of Scorpius’s mouth twitched upwards, and Rose felt the same reflected in her.

 Laughter bubbled out - a genuine one, this time, not anything like that maniacal mess she spouted earlier - and Scorpius laughed, too, even though there was nothing funny. Perhaps it came with this feeling of relief in knowing that even if she didn’t understand everything, she wasn’t alone in her confusion. She was reveling in the lightness of newfound camaraderie.

 “Things aren’t going to go back the way they were, will they?” Rose said finally, once the laughter died down and the quiet settled again.

 “I don’t know,” Scorpius said. “I think we still should - well, you and I hanging out without Al, and you two without me, and me and Al without you. Even if we’re all best mates together, each of us have something special with each other, you know?”

 Rose thought she understood. Her friendship with her cousin was different than her friendship with Scorpius in subtle nuances. Al was such a busybody that time with him usually centered around other people - _Did you hear what Vicky did last week? I want to set up Chelsea with Dave, how should we go about it? Hugo’s birthday is coming up, what are you thinking for his annual b-day prank?_ \- whereas her relationship with Scorpius tended to ignore the outside world for the most part. They’d laugh at Muggle films, debate over books, or do something completely novel, like the time they had tried to bake cookies from scratch and ended up with forgotten, blackened crisps that they had disposed of by hiding them in Al’s shoes. And each of these relationships were different from the way things were when all three of them met together.

 Maybe even if her schedule fell back into place, things would be different just because her perspective was. That from her two best mates, she had three friendships - one with Al, one with Scorpius, and one with them both. And she could learn to respect the friendship that Al and Scorpius had without her without feeling left out, just as Scorpius could learn to respect the friendship she had with Al.

 “Yeah, I get it,” Rose said, and was surprised to find that she really did. “But you know - I’ve been meeting new people, too, and I like it. I don’t want to lose that.”

 Scorpius looked surprised. “Then don’t.”

 He said it so easily, Rose almost laughed.

 “Just - next time - tell me, okay? When you’re feeling upset. Don’t disappear for two and a half months,” Scorpius said.

 “I know, I’m sorry. I will,” Rose said earnestly. Some time during their conversation, they’d shifted closer together on the couch, and Rose let her head fall onto his shoulder. She spent so much of the past few weeks living in her head, and it felt nice to just… let go, for a little while. “Lily’s berated me enough about it already.”

 “Lily’s a practical witch.”

 “It’s part of her charm.”

 “If by charm, you mean a terrifying force of nature,” Scorpius retorted. Rose giggled. She swirled the wine in her bottle and took a sip, allowing herself to relax. “You know,” Scorpius started again, “my department is having a picnic event in a few weeks. Do you want to come?”

 Rose looked up at him, startled. “You’re not dating - what’s her name - Renee?”

 It was Scorpius’ turn to look startled. “Renee? No, I haven’t spoken to her in a while.”

 “Oh.” Rose waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. She didn’t mind, because Renee didn’t seem to matter that much anymore to Rose either. She was on speaking terms with her best mate again, and he’d just invited her as a plus one. With a coy smile, she asked instead, “And then after, we can go on a night out and you can help me pick up a bloke?”

 Scorpius’ eyebrows arched in surprised but a grin quickly slid onto his lips. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

 Rose beamed. “I’d love to go.” She hesitated then before looking back up at him. “Would you like to come to my grandma’s dinner on Wednesday?”

 “Is that allowed? I thought she only keeps it in the family,” Scorpius said. He spoke so nonchalantly that if not for their earlier conversation, Rose never would’ve thought he had harbored any doubts on the topic. (And again, Rose was reminded why she never played poker with Scorpius anymore.)

 “Well, she does. Says there’s no other time to get everyone together undistracted. But once in a while won’t hurt.” Rose grinned mischievously. “I could always say we’re dating and then I’d _have_ to bring you around to dinner. Not to mention the quality entertainment I’d get from watching you get destroyed by the Weasley Brigade’s boyfriend vetting process. Especially when you get your arse handed to you by my dad.”

 Scorpius sputtered, and Rose cackled.

 Maybe things weren’t perfect, but Rose thought that things were good.


End file.
